


Worthy to You

by Solitori



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Huskerdust week 2021, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Past Character Death, Prostitution, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solitori/pseuds/Solitori
Summary: Husk was a disappointment.Angel was a mistake.They were both useless, but maybe in each other's arms, they could be worthy.Based off of Huskerdust week's day 4 prompt: Useless/Worthy
Relationships: Angel Dust & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	Worthy to You

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I'm late, but I really wanted to participate in at least one day! 
> 
> This took me a little too long to write, and yet I regret nothing.
> 
> On a side note, I am also writing one of the prompts for Staticmoth week, so stay tuned for that!
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

Husk was useless. 

It was practically his title. When he was raised, it was a phrase constantly ingrained into the back of his mind. Useless, such a useless child.

As a rowdy teen, he was more than just useless. He was pathetic, a waste of space, an embarrassment. His father was ashamed, and his mother was heartbroken. A piece of shit, they had called him.

Years later, he grew into an adult, and it was still the same. A disappointment. Even when his parents had passed, he still felt their judgement on him. Were they in Heaven looking down at him fuck up? Or maybe in Hell, waiting for his fuck ups to cost him.

He worked hard with that thought in mind, trying to keep his internal cynicism out of his day-to-day life. Wanting to somehow prove himself, he decided to go to college and work his way through. During his time there, he met her.

She was beautiful, always having the brightest smile. She had a fiery personality that never allowed anyone to give up on themselves. She was perfect.

The day he asked her out was one of his happiest memories. For once in his life, he didn’t feel so useless. They went on countless dates, and every second he spent with her, the more he began to accept himself. She made him whole.

He graduated college, and decided to marry her. During his proposal, he remembered the tears of joy streaming down her gorgeous cheeks, the countless repeat of “yes” etched into his mind.

They got married in a small church, the event between close friends and family, which was practically nothing for Husk. He didn’t feel so useless then, feeling as though he might actually have worth.

Moving together, the two of them decided to begin their life together. He loved her so much, and he believed she loved him. Husk was content.

And then it happened. Authorities called it a freak accident, but Husk didn’t care. She was gone, never to come back. During this time, he had fallen to alcohol, trying to get the images of her limp body out of his mind. 

Useless, he was so _useless._ Why hadn’t he been there? He could practically hear his parents laughing in their graves at how pathetic he was. He lost her, and his job was soon to follow due to his countless missed days at work. He didn’t care anymore, the one good thing in his life was gone.

Husk felt empty at that time, all of that love he had held for her gone. He drank, and he drank some more, spending numerous nights at the bar. During his time spent there, he picked up on gambling as well, eventually becoming so good at the different games that he was seen as unbeatable.

His death had been nothing special. In one of his drunken stupors, he had put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, not caring if there was a bullet in it.

He woke up falling from the sky, his wings catching him. Wings? It had taken a moment for Husk to process that he was in Hell, and that there was actually an afterlife. Fuck. He really was useless.

Husk knew she was up there, while his own bad decisions had let him to be stuck down here. He wandered around, living on the streets for a good while. When he could find money, he’d use it for alcohol, drinking just as he had done when alive. Useless.

One day, he’d stumbled into the cannibal district, a particularly dangerous place to roam, but he hadn’t cared. Instead, he found himself lying against dumpsters in an alley, too wasted to give a damn about anything.

An ominous figure walked up to him then, the red of his suit and hair making him stand out immensely. “Hello there my dear fellow, you appear to be troubled. Care to tell what is the matter?” The deer demon spoke, one of the first demons to ever engage in a conversation with him.

“Doesn’t matter, fuck off.” Husk was blunt. He didn’t want any of this pity party bullshit, and knew better than to trust kindness. It would always hurt him in the end.

“Well,” The demon began again, not taking a hint. “I have a proposition for you, my friend.” He slung an arm around Husk’s shoulders, and Husk hissed in retaliation.

“Not. Interested.” Husk flipped him off, and began to trudge away. However, before he could get very far, the taller demon grabbed a hold of his arm.

His smile was fucking terrifying. Husk could feel the terror deep in his gut, although his poker face would never allow it to show. “Now, that is very rude. I believe I was speaking to you, did I not make myself clear?”

The radio dials in the other’s eyes haunted Husk down to the core, his sharp teeth animalistic. “As I was saying,” In a flash, his demonic persona was gone, replaced with another carefree smile. “I would like to sign a deal with you, my friend.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. A deal with him? Right, like that wasn’t a trap. “I assure you my friend, there will be many benefits on your end. For instance, all of the alcohol you could ever desire.”

That had caught Husk’s attention, his ear twitching. “I’m listenin’.” He muttered, face showing a twinge of interest.

“Great! Shall we discuss the details in private?” The demon gestured with his cane. “Oh but first, where are my manners? I am Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you.”

“Husk.” He had grumbled back, still unsure of Alastor’s intentions. Frankly, he was too broken to care. They shook hands then, and Alastor had teleported them both to his quarters, going through the lengthy contract.

At the end of the day, Husk had sold his soul away for a combination of booze, housing, and casino privileges. He was still an emotionless husk, and found the name fitting. He was still useless.

Eventually Alastor had also introduced a small demon named Niffty. She reminded him of a daughter, and his instinct was to protect her. Niffty was the only exception to his gruff exterior, the both of them bonding closely. She was odd, and he adored that about her.

Years upon years had passed, Alastor having him do some dirty work here and there, but never anything too huge. He was free to drink and gamble his afterlife away as he desired. Still useless.

That was, until the radio demon had transported him during an invigorating poker game to act as a charity case for a dumb hotel. He groaned, and did as Alastor wished, the free alcohol making the experience somewhat tolerable.

While getting adjusted to his new spot, he was jolted out of his uncaring mindset by the porn star Angel Dust himself. His hands had been all over Husk, and he flinched away, uncomfortable by the spider demon’s overbearing personality.

The princess had walked over then, telling him how much he’d love it there, but he knew better. “I lost the ability to love years ago.” Husk told her, and it was true. With his wife also went his love. He was hollow, useless.

Weeks had passed, and shit remained mostly the same. The hotel’s only resident, Angel Dust, would leave from time and time again, the hot-headed manager would yell about something, and verbal arguments would ensue. They became white noise to Husk, his brain tuning out everything but his own thoughts.

Night after night, Angel had desperately flirted with him, calling him cutesy names and trying to get into his figurative pants. Husk was tired, the spider demon relentless. He’d tell the bastard to fuck off, and Angel would respond with a quit-witted sexual innuendo.

Husk had assumed Angel was just some spoiled brat who wanted a free room, but one night he had seen the demon in a different light. Angel came to the bar as usual, but instead of flirting or joking around, he had his pet pig curled in his arms, a fragile smile on his face.

He stared at Angel’s face for a good while, trying to determine what that smile held under the surface, but Angel had noticed. 

“What, tryin’ to find my best side? Jokes on you, they’re all my best.” He’d laughed, but it didn’t hold the typical mirth and playfulness as every other time he’d joked around. Husk just rolled his eyes however, leaving the issue alone. 

He decided it was too much work to care about someone again. Husk was just that, an emotionless, useless husk. Why should he care what happened to a big name such as Angel Dust?

Before he could emotionally drift away however, Angel spoke up again. “Hey, Husk, can I ask ya somethin’?” Husk blinked, looking up to the other. Angel’s voice sounded off.

He mumbled an affirmation, and Angel continued. “Say there’s this… couple. One gets physical with the other sometimes and calls ‘em names, but they still tell ‘em they love ‘em, bringin’ gifts and shit as apologies.” He paused, as if he was in the moment, before remembering where he was. “Is that love?” 

That question haunted Husk. Was that love? All of Husk wanted to tell the demon yes, that was love, just to get him off of his back. However, as he went to speak, he stopped himself. All he could think about was her, how she never gave up on him, and yet here he was, still being useless.

Was that love? No, not in the slightest. Husk couldn’t love anymore, but he remembered how it felt. Never once did they hurt each other intentionally, the thought of her being upset by his actions too painful to bear.

He finally responded, voice holding a bit more rasp to it than usual. “No, that ain’t love.” He watched Angel’s face fall, had he said the wrong thing? There he was, still being useless to everyone around him.

The spider demon’s voice interrupted his thoughts once again. “Thanks, Husk.” Angel smiled genuinely at him, and he felt something then. It wasn’t love, he knew that for sure, but it still felt just as pleasant.

He watched Angel walk away, head still filled with thoughts of this new increase in comradery. Those bar visits became more common after that, their slight bond becoming stronger by the day. Sometimes Angel would come to him with similar deep questions and thoughts, his secret maturity and wisdom surprising Husk in the best way possible.

At some point, he even considered them friends, though he still didn’t believe he could feel much else. Love was dead to him, he told himself. He was too hopeless to be loved, and too useless to love back.

Their bar hangouts evolved into regular hangouts, the two of them going on what could be considered small dates around the city, sharing their interests with one another. Husk even taught Angel how to keep a better poker face.

“You gotta make sure your face is emotionless, the smallest fuckin’ twinge of your eyebrow could give your whole hand away.” He explained, showing his own poker face.

Angel seemed impressed. “Damn Husky, you’re good at this shit.” He smirked mischievously, a hand on his hip. “But, I’ll beat ya someday, you just wait.” Husk burst into laughter at the other’s confidence.

“Don’t count on it, kid. I’ve had years of experience.” Husk pat the spider on the back, noting how happy he felt. Huh.

Eventually, they became more than friends. Husk didn’t know how to describe it, so he gave up trying. He still didn’t think it was quite love yet, those emotions still fleeting. All he knew was that he liked seeing Angel happy, and Angel made him happy in return.

They went on like this, Husk being there for Angel when the porn star needed him most. He didn’t feel so useless anymore, until the anniversary of her death.

His mind filled with thoughts of betrayal, what was he doing to her? Was he being a useless husband for abandoning her for someone new? He was the worst, a pathetic demon who couldn’t even save the one he loved. Would the same happen to Angel? He dreaded the thought.

Husk spiraled then, his mind repeating the words his parents had used. Awful, horrible, disappointment, pathetic, useless nobody. Useless, useless, **useless.**

The pair of arms wrapping around him jolted him out of his misery, the warm body pressing against his. “I love you, Husk.” Angel murmured, head pressed against the top of Husk’s, fitting against Husk perfectly as if he was made to be there.

Angel loved him. He was worthy in Angel’s eyes, and that was enough.

Husk was worthy.

-

Angel was useless.

Ever since he was conceived, he was a murderer. The day he and Molly had been born, his poor mother had passed away, and who had been the cause? Angel himself, as the strain of both twins causing her body to give out.

His father never let him live it down, always reminding him about what a mistake he was. “Why can’t ya be more like your brother, Tony?” His pops would say, and he’d think about it. Why wasn’t he better? Hell, even Molly was more useful than him, always helping around the house like a mother for the three boys. He was so useless.

When he grew into a teenager, he knew something was wrong. He felt no attraction to girls whatsoever, no matter how much his father pestered him. He found that he instead liked other boys. The day he told his father was one of the scariest points of Anthony’s life.

His father had beat him within an inch of his life, telling him in the coldest tone, “You’re no son of mine.” What a useless son he was.

After that, he’d tried to hide his sinful attraction, pushing himself to help with any work the Family needed done. Though, a small part of him wanted to rebel more, push his father to punish him again. Anything to get his father’s attention back on him again.

As he grew into an adult, his rebellious phrase burst forward. He did everything his father told him not to, pretending the looks of scorn from both his father and brother never bothered him. In reality, their hatred cut him deep, his desperation for their love ringing in his head at all times. At least he had Molly to help cope with the pain, as the girl supported just about everything he did.

With his behavior, he knew it was bound to happen, but the moment his father had kicked him out devastated him. He was a young gay male on the streets, with no money or shelter to keep him safe and sound. He was vulnerable and terrified of what was to come. 

So, he improvised. Anthony found that the many closeted men in the city would pay big money for a private session with an attractive young man.

The cash he acquired helped him pay for his food, and at some point drugs. Living on the streets had exposed him to the pleasurable escape of PCP and other miscellaneous drugs, and he quickly became addicted.

Pretty soon, food became an afterthought, and all he could think about was getting his next high. He took these drugs to forget the pain, knowing it would always come back the moment he was sober again.

One night, he had a particularly awful day, practically no cash in his pockets. What little amount he had left, he put towards more PCP, taking dose after dose. He didn’t feel it right away, and thought for a moment he had been jipped, before it hit him. Fuck, he’d taken too much.

Laying on the ground, he hadn’t even felt himself fall. He felt so miserable, so useless. Here he was, a pathetic waste of space, dying alone on the ground in the city. Ha, his pops would probably be ecstatic knowing he was finally gone for good. 

Though, he thought about Molly in his last moments, how he had been something of worth to her. This would break her, knowing her twin was never coming back. He panicked, mind racing before his body became still.

His eyes popped open as his body flew down. He felt the impact, rubbing his back and pushing himself up. This was… Hell? Fuck, he should’ve known he’d never get into Heaven like his mama. Glancing at his body in the window of a nearby building, he noted his two extra pairs of arms. That was an interesting development, if not slightly more useful.

Angel wandered around for a long while, noting the lingering eyes of countless demons. At one point, he felt the familiar itch of withdrawal, needing the sweet relief he’d died from. 

He decided that his cause of death would be his new name, Angel Dust. It was fitting. Going back to what he knew best, he began offering his body to anyone who’d look, scoring enough money for both his drugs and a place to stay for a few nights.

Years passed, Angel doing the same business as always. He had a shitty apartment, his payment being pleasuring his damn landlord every other night. Despite all of this, his apartment, the drugs, Angel felt exhausted. He was tired of still being so useless.

Then, he met Valentino. The moth had offered to make him a star, and fuck, who was Angel to refuse that? He signed the contract provided without hesitation, not seeing the menacing twist to Valentino’s smile.

“Angelcakes, baby, you’re gonna be the next big thing. But first-” He reached forward, pushing up Angel’s chest to form what looked like breasts. “You gotta be able to please just about everyone.”

Valentino was always so kind to him, complimenting him when he did good and teaching him when he did bad. “I love you, Angelcakes.” The moth had murmured one night in bed. Maybe Angel was worth something to him?

That thought was quickly demolished the day the moth overlord beat him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Angel had repeated over and over again, hoping to ease the demon’s anger.

“Sorry ain’t good enough, Angel. You’re gonna make it up to me big time.” His snarl was petrifying, and Angel felt a few tears slip out. “Aw, Angelcakes, don’t cry.” In a flash, Valentino’s voice became silky smooth, a comforting sound.

Angel didn’t understand, did Val actually love him? He hurt him, but he was quick to apologize and comfort the spider demon. Valentino even gave him Fat Nuggets as a present one time, the demon pig quickly becoming a comfort animal to Angel. The emotional rollercoasters he went on each day with the moth overlord soon became tiring, his body and mind worn. He wanted out.

When he met with Valentino in private to discuss the matters, he didn’t realize how thin the ice was that he was treading on. “You want… out? Oh baby~” The moth purred out, pulling up the contract. “Your soul is _mine_ Anthony, and don’t you forget that.” He grabbed Angel by his jaw and hissed in his face.

Angel was trapped, stuck in the overlord’s grasp. Though, some fucked up part of him enjoyed it, knowing he was useful in some way. He worked for Valentino without contest after that, trying to make sure he never made the moth pimp angry again.

Many years passed, the abuse by the hands of Valentino getting worse. After a while, the sweet talk dropped completely along with the compliments. Angel wasn’t sure if he was needed anymore, and it hurt. He was useless.

That’s why, when he was kicked out of the limo by Val, he took those two crazy broads up on their idea of rehabilitation. Did he believe in the bullshit they were spouting? Hell no, but the offer involved a place that he didn’t have to suck dick for, so who was he complaining?

A few weeks in the hotel, and Angel had begun to regret ever agreeing to their stupid plan. No drugs and violence? Please, that was practically his thing. He’d sneak out with his girl buddy Cherri to blow off some steam, coming back high and happy.

It continued like that until the news caught him destroying territory on camera, his freedom at the hotel being restricted immediately. Though, Angel supposed the one good thing to come from that day was meeting him.

The cat demon was hot, and this was coming from Angel Dust himself. He was gruff and coarse, far from an easy target. Angel began coming down to the lobby more often solely for the purpose of flirting with the grumpy cat.

“Husky~” He would saunter over and sit, flirting and flaunting his body to no avail. Still, it was relatively fun to tease the demon, his uncaring exterior nearly impossible to crack. 

Though one night, Angel wasn’t feeling up to it. He had come back from work after a long day, his mind running rampant with thoughts about his boss. Valentino had been particularly confusing that day, hurting him as always before turning back to that sickly sweet nature Angel used to know so well.

Picking up Fat Nuggets and carrying him to the bar, he gave the grouchy bartender a small smile. It was weird, he wanted to say something sultry, but it felt wrong. Then, he noticed the other staring directly at him, and his mouth moved before he realized it, asking Husk about his best side. Really Angel? Fucking ridiculous.

The demon cat ignored him, for good reason, but Angel wasn’t satisfied. In a turn of events, he asked Husk a sincere question, trying to keep himself from being too vulnerable. When Husk answered him, it had left Angel in shock. 

Angel figured, but it was still hard to hear. “No, that ain’t love.” The words resonated in his head, and he knew. Valentino never loved him, no matter how many times he said it. _No one actually loved him, they loved what he provided._

He thanked the demon for helping him settle his troubled thoughts, and trotted off to bed. Angel cried that night, long and hard. His muffled sobs echoed in the room, and he thanked Lucifer that no other occupants lived near him.

In all honesty, Angel had felt a lot better after that. No longer did he eagerly try to please Valentino, instead doing his job normally like any other worker. He wasn’t the moth pimp’s plaything anymore, he was not a toy.

Valentino had noticed his less obedient nature however, and decided to remind Angel of who he was. “Angelcakes, don’t forget. No one wants you, all you are good for is a decent fuck.” The words were like knives digging into his heart, even though he had heard them all before. Useless, he was so useless.

To distract himself, he visited the bar for more late night chats, the subject matter often heavy. Angel found Husk to be a surprisingly good conversationalist, their talks lasting long past sunset.

Angel felt comfortable hanging around Husk, considering him a good friend. They bonded over small things, their personalities mixing well despite their differences. Where Husk was closed off, Angel was vastly open.

When they began to spend time together outside of the hotel, Angel noticed his feeling towards the other grow. Was _this_ love? He had trouble distinguishing what love truly felt like, so maybe this could be it?

He decided that it wasn’t, not yet. Angel held a deep affection for Husk, but love wasn’t what he wanted to call it, and he was okay with that. What they had was good, and there was no point in changing it. Besides, how could Husk love someone as useless as him?

However, the day he did find himself falling for the cat demon wasn’t long after. Angel had been emotionally shut off after a particularly awful day at work, keeping to himself when he was sent back to the hotel. 

The threat his boss had whispered in his ear before he kicked him out gave Angel chills. “Fuck up like this again, Angelcakes, and you won’t see that hotel ever again.” Valentino practically seethed, his eyes narrowed. He scurried back in an attempt to get away from it all.

Before he knew it, Angel was sitting at the bar in silence, though his mind was everything but. Useless, useless, **useless.** He was useless to Charlie, to this hotel, to Valentino. Was he useless to Husk too? The thought twisted his stomach painfully, and he shut his eyes tight.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he flinched hard. “Sorry, my bad Angel.” Husk murmured, hands up in surrender.

“No, it’s okay Husky. Just a rough day is all.” Angel took the cat demon’s paw in his own, holding it close to his heart. He heard Husk sigh, and glanced up at him.

Husk took his hand back. “This is going to be cheesy as fuck, but,” He paused, opening his arms in an unspoken offer. “C’mere.”

Before he even registered his body moving, Angel was engulfed in the hug, hands gripping tight to Husk’s fur. His body began to shake, letting out the emotions he’d bottled up for so long. 

In Husk’s arms, Angel meant something. He had a home, someone who cared about him. He was worth something.

Angel was worthy.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love the thought of these two finding their own worth with each other's help, it's sweet.
> 
> Their dynamic is beautiful too, and it works out so nicely~
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


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